In his review of That’s My Boy, Adam Sandler’s latest cinematic equivalent of a talking pile of dog poop that screams out outdated pop culture references, our very own Burnsy said, “I laughed zero times, and not even in an ‘I can’t laugh because I’ll hate myself’ way.” He did not like the movie.

Neither did New York City street and subway artist Jilly Ballistic, who found a That’s My Boy poster in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and stuck a sticker on it to make it look like a computer screen. You know what you can do with a computer? Look at porn, sure, but also move things to the trash, which is what I wish we could do with our memories of this movie. I’d make an Eternal Sunshine joke, but I don’t want to talk about that brilliant film in the same paragraph as That’s My Boy. Eternal Sunshine is to Jilly’s creativity as That’s My Boy is to the guy who drew dicks all over Andy Samberg’s face.

There’s this running joke about dropping a burrito that wasn’t funny. And Donny keeps beating off to pictures of this old lady, and Han Solo cleans up the tissues one morning and they’re still sticky. Does Sandler not know that jizz dries? UGH. This movie sucked.